


What Dreams May Come

by stay_off_my_lawn



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Suicidal Thoughts, a little thing I cooked up for Halloween, but not scary at all, may be a teensy bit spooky, minor warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stay_off_my_lawn/pseuds/stay_off_my_lawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is all too glad to have survived finals but now she has to make her way home for the holidays. Tried, cold, and grumpy, she finds a mysterious stranger that keeps pulling her away from her thoughts. Little does she know, sometimes we do get what we wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a concept for a short scary story that took on a life of its own. Hopefully it still retained some of its original spookiness. 
> 
> As always, giant THANKS to Spazzyberry the editor of words!!
> 
> Special thanks to [thesummerofrain](http://thesummerofrain.tumblr.com/) for the vote of confidence!

After what felt like an entire day of waiting in line to go through all the checkpoints at the airport, Clarke finally arrives at her boarding gate. She’s been up for 27 hours at this point and has reached the stage of fatigue where she is tipsy with deliriousness and has barely enough brain juice to maintain a coherent thought. The pent up exhaustion from firing on all cylinders the last three weeks cramming for exams and rushing to finish final projects is starting to gnaw hungrily at the periphery of her consciousness. _There has got to be something wrong with your life when you're actively looking forward to a red eye flight just so you can finally get a couple hours of sleep_ , she thought to herself. In fact, the only thing keeping her from falling into hibernation the instant her butt hits something remotely comfortable is the shadowy cold dread of facing the ghosts on the other end of this flight.

 

As she scans the already packed seating area, she decides to forego the uncomfortable chairs and settles for a roomy spot in front of one those floor to ceiling windows that look out onto the tarmac. Sure, the damp chill from outside will probably seep through the glass, but at least she’ll have a nice view. As much as she normally likes to be in the mix of all the boisterousness, she’s not sure she can stomach all the grumpily loving families around her right now.

 

Shutting out the world with her ultra soundproof headphones, Clarke carefully selects an upbeat playlist. Going home has always been tough, but it is exceptionally more draining around the holidays. Her family was never particularly huge on the festivities, but the holidays had always meant that she would get both her parents home, and that she would be guaranteed a couple days of family time with no interruptions from last minute conference calls, emergency meetings, or whatever other excuses, real or not, that both her parents always had an unlimited supply of. But now, she’s wishing for one of those get-out-of-family-time excuses herself; she would literally rather be stuck at this miserable airport than spend an extra minute in the same room as the two of them. Anything to get out of this trip really.

 

Clarke lets her gaze lazily stroll across the horizon, along the row of snow-brushed trees lining the other side of the runway, and reluctant or not, she gets pulled away anyways - to all those mornings while things were still good, to waking up to the pale blue light of dawn breaking, before even colors have awaken, to finding the entire world blanketed by a puffy layer of fresh, undisturbed snow overnight; to bounding down the hall and dragging her parents out of bed, bed-heads and PJs and all, to have the most epic snowball fights ever, because if nothing else, the Griffins play to win; to the giant steaming mugs of hot chocolate afterwards, almost too big for her tiny hands to hold, and how she would inevitably burn her tongue, too eager to take the first sip, to the way her parents would chuckle and look at each other with actual fondness-

 

Thankfully, the reflection of a flurry of movements pulls her away from those bittersweet memories. Adjusting her angle of focus on the window to spy on the other passengers at the gate through the reflection, she catches the culprit. A young woman about Clarke’s age, a loose hoodie from her university, skin tight jeans, hair tied up in intricate braids, talking to a younger companion, a sister maybe?

 

All the propriety ingrained in her is reproachfully reminding herself that it is rude to stare and eavesdropping is equally bad. But one, that girl is insanely attractive, and Clarke is already hypnotized by the way her hands dance in the air as she speaks; two, Clarke has been taking ASL for a couple semesters now, and she is really curious to see how much of it she can understand in a real life scenario; and three, well technically she’s only looking through the glass, so it doesn’t really count right?

 

“settle in .. flight delayed … … said … … weather,” was all Clarke could make out from what the girl is saying.

 

As the other girl offers a defeated shrug in reply, Clarke frowns in confusion. She is definitely not aware their flight got delayed. She knows she had spaced out for a minute but she is usually pretty alert to the announcement calls, and the gate display is still proudly showing their intended boarding time. Curious, but she suppose there must be a million reasons why the girl would tell her companion that, and none of it is her business really. Clarke was about to shrug it off when,

 

“Gooood evening, ladies and gentlemen. Attention Exodus Airlines flight 100 with service to Ton DC, we regret to inform you that there has been a delay due to weather conditions at your destination…”

 

 _Ugh. Just great_ , Clarke grumbles quietly as she hunkers down in her spot and retreats back into her fortress of mindless distractions, anything to keep the demons of her memories at bay.

 

Outside, a flutter of snow has started to fall, mindlessly waltzing their way down the spotlight cast by the tarmac lights. By tomorrow morning, this sleepy little town will surely be waking up to a white Christmas.

  
  


\----- ----- -----

  


 

Luckily the flight was only delayed once and only for thirty odd minutes. The rest of the boarding procedures are going off without a hitch as Clarke begrudgingly makes her way to the back of the long line that has formed in the time it took her to walk across the boarding area. Eyes wandering up the line as she waits impatiently, she spots Braided Hair Girl and her companion handing over their boarding pass to be scanned at the front of the line.

 

 _How in the world did they get there so fast?!_ , Clarke wonders. They were sitting on the far side of the boarding area just like she was. It was almost as if they had known when boarding would be called and had walked over early in anticipation. But again, Clarke shrugs it off, probably just experienced fliers; or overly anxious first time travelers for that matter. Either way, as she inches towards the plane, Clarke’s attention gets hijacked by the looming realization that she is yet another step closer to home.

 

 

 

\----- ----- -----

 

 

 

Looking down the aisle in anticipation, Clarke is glad to find that the drink service has almost reached her row. She hits pause on the movie she’s watching. She hates being interrupted and much rather wait the couple of minutes for them to get to her than have to fight with the glitchy controls in a hurry. Besides, this is precisely what she's been waiting for. Over the years, she has developed somewhat of a ritual: half a sleeping pill with a tomato juice and the bag of mixed nuts, then falling asleep to an old favorite movie. It’s really the only formula she can count on to get through the six hour flight.

 

Clarke takes the couple minutes of down time to lean up in her seat and snoop around the cabin to see what other people are doing. She spots Braided Hair Girl in the row diagonally ahead of hers. Now Clarke really doesn’t mean to stare, but between the girl’s concerned grey eyes and her warm smile, Clarke doesn’t stand a chance.

 

“Tris ... no … tomato juice … … ask … ... something else?”

“Apple juice?”

 

 _Aww man!_ , Clarke almost whines out loud. _The one thing I wanted!_   She huffs and pouts to no one in particular as she sulks back into her seat. Even as bummed as she is, Clarke still can’t help but get drawn in as Braided Hair Girl orders their drinks. _How is it possible that someone can have such a soft but commanding voice?_  

 

“One water and a tomato juice please.”

“Sorry hon, I just gave away my last can of tomato juice. Can I get you something else?”

“Apple juice then.”

 

Something about that exchange made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight, and it takes her sleep deprived brain a couple minutes to catch up to what was wrong, but just as the realization begins to dawn on her, she gets distracted by the drink service now arriving at her row.

 

“So no more tomato juice huh?” Clarke asks hopefully, never hurts to ask right?

“Yeah sorry hon, we’re all...  oh! Hang on...  Wow, I guess today’s your lucky day missy! This can was playing hide and seek with me.”

“Thanks!” Clarke says and silently also thanks Lady Luck for having her back once again. Ritual restored, she breaths a little easier, the unsettling feeling earlier from the pretty stranger’s conversation all but forgotten.

 

 

 

\----- ----- -----

 

 

 

A sudden sense of falling yanks Clarke out of her sleep. Looking around at the other passengers all sleeping soundly, she decides that nothing seems to be wrong. _Probably just turbulence,_ she thought as she settles into sleep again. Out the corner of her eye though, Braided Hair Girl is frantically signing to her companion,

 

“... scared ... wrong ... fall ...  your seat belt ... wait ... put ... mask ... hang on!! “

 

Her breath catches with each word she is able to decipher. Clarke can’t help but suspect whether she had understood all that correctly. And almost intuitively, a stray thought flitted through her head, _It actually wouldn’t be so bad though would it? Nothing to be sad about ever again_. But before she can even register disgust at herself for ever thinking that, it flitted away just as quickly. In its place she is left with a hollow, sinking feeling. She cannot for the life of her figure out what had triggered it, or why, but just that it feels so familiar - too familiar, like she had forgotten something, like the end of a thought lost to interruption.

 

Then all the pieces clicked into place all at once, and Clarke’s stomach fell for a second time, but this time it had nothing to do with altitude. Braided Hair girl. Her brain flashes back to all the times that this girl has been right about things that have yet to happen. And with each looping replay, the numbing chill spreading through her chest claws in a bit deeper, and the sound of her heartbeat thumping through her ears rings a bit harder. Clarke doesn’t need to think twice before quickly following the instructions herself. Waiting for the oxygen masks to fall any second now, her knuckles grip the armrests so hard her muscles soon start trembling and screaming in protest, but pain is good. Pain means she is still alive.

 

When the plane inevitably lurches downwards, diving nose first towards the ground, slamming everyone into the seats in front of them, Clarke forces her eyes close, and tries as hard as she can to shut out the harrowing screams and panicked chaos all around her. As if in a feeble attempt to give herself something, anything, to focus on, the last thing she remembers hearing the main character say echoes ominously on repeat in her head,

 

 

 

_“Be careful what you wish for.”_

 

 

 

 

\----- ----- -----

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarke jolts into consciousness, gasping for air as though she had been holding her breath in anticipation of the plane’s fiery end. She forcefully draws a couple of deep cold breaths to calm herself from the all too vivid nightmare, and shakes her head a couple times to get rid of the crawly grogginess from the dream.

 

One of those dreams that leaves an icky feeling hovering behind your shoulders all day.

 

A glance at her phone confirms that only a couple minutes have passed since she had first sat down. Surveying the boarding gate, everything seems as it was. The flight is still delayed; the wailing babies are still imposing their displeasure on everyone; the angry teenagers are still adamantly ignoring their family; the Braided Hair Girl is-

 

the Braided Hair Girl is actually charging towards her with purpose, armed with a look that could pierce metal. Assuming that she must have been caught listening in on their conversation, Clarke could only smile sheepishly and lowers her gaze to avoid eye contact with the fast advancing assailant. Clarke looks back up as Braided Hair Girl approaches, hoping to diffuse some of that righteous anger with her million dollar charm, but before she even has a chance to open her mouth, she is slapped hard across the face.

 

 

 

“Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to stop! You are going to crash this plane!"


End file.
